


smoke in the face

by sawakaga



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 04489, Boys In Love, First Kiss, Hot summer days, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shotgunning, Underage Smoking, also daisuga week inspired me to finish this, gratuitous and self indulgent suga worship, they’re oblivious third years who just need a little push, this is my first fic bear with me please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawakaga/pseuds/sawakaga
Summary: “Can I try?” It breaks this cozy silence that’s settled between them, a hazy expression having washed over the other’s face somewhere along the way. He squints at the boy, silver hair nearly glowing with the sunlight streaming from the window behind him. Another breathtaking sight, and one he can’t quite tear his gaze from this time. He wets his lips, pushing a scratchy voice out through a dry throat.“Have you ever done anything like this before?” It’s a sincere question. While Suga is sometimes known for doing crazy stunts in leagues with some of the more rambunctious team members, Daichi is rather unsure if he’s ever actually been high before. If so, they’d have to take things slow.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 106





	smoke in the face

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is just self-indulgent daisuga because i’m a sucker for them and have nothing better to do than write for them.
> 
> this whole thing was inspired by gutspace’s art and you can find it [here](https://theheadlessgirl.tumblr.com/post/105108079453/daichi-suga-shotgunning).
> 
> enjoy!

Their breaths mix together in the close proximity, heat radiating from a strange want and the summer night. It’s sticky and humid, the fans and open window doing very little to quelch the uncomfortable warmth. Smoke curls around them, wafting lazily in the air in tendrils of greys and whites. 

It’s Suga’s idea. They’re lying on Daichi’s bed, the comforter stripped away so the cool sheets press against their skin, a half-assed attempt at staying semi-cool in the humid room. The fans are on high, the insistent _whump whump whump_ of the plastic blades harshly spinning being the only sound in the still room. It’s too hot to move, too hot to think. 

They’re sprawled in a weird mismatch of limbs, not quite touching each other, but also not quite distancing themselves either. _It’s just the heat_ , Daichi tells himself, head falling to the side, eyes raking over his best friend’s still form. The only indication that he’s alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest, the soft fluttering of lashes as he peacefully dozes on and off. Silver hair is ruffled, out of place from the usual tamed style Suga wears. 

At some point, he forces himself to tear his eyes away, knowing his gaze didn’t go unnoticed by the other boy. But Sugawara doesn’t say anything, just smiles faintly with his eyes still closed. Hums softly in that limbo between sleep and awakening. 

For some reason, this serene moment in time causes Daichi’s anxiety to rise. It’s too peaceful. Too good to be true, in a sense. He doesn’t deserve to have a moment like this, there’s too much to do, too much to get ready for. Graduation and college prep and applications and the team. The weight of responsibility slumps heavily back on Karasuno captain’s shoulders and he nearly dry-heaves at the washover. Before he realizes what he’s doing, the boy is slowly rolling out of the bed, careful not to knock limbs with the slumbering Suga. He succeeds, barely, and in a sudden frenzied haze, blindly gropes for his bedside drawer. 

It’s just to dull this panicked need to move, move, move. It’s not real panic, he knows this, it’s just the mounting weight of the tasks to come that spur him to pull out several items in the haphazardly strewn drawer before locating what he’s truly looking for. 

A joint. 

It’s only for when he needs to calm down, meant as a soothing device ‘prescribed’ by a couple of friends after one too many stressful moments. They’re episodes that he’s managed to keep in check, but there’s some days where Daichi’s pushed to his limit and cracks under any additional pressure. Those days, he feels shame for not being strong enough for his team, for his friends. Those days, he does his best to make up for it in the weeks to come. 

“What’re you doin’?” A raspy voice breaks the silence and he flinches as the needy spell shatters, nearly dropping his silly prize in surprise. Head whips around so fast that he almost gives himself whiplash, neck screaming in protest as he stares owlishly at the boy stirring on top his bed, rubbing the leftover sleep from his eyes. With light streaming in from the open window, it gives Suga the appearance of an otherworldly being, some divine creature enraptured in luminance itself. He can’t help but stare mutely for a moment or two. 

A moment or two couldn’t hurt anyone. 

Suga’s giving him a quizzical look, soft brown eyes slanting as they shift between his face and the items in his hand. The blunt suddenly feels hot against his fingers, though he’s made no move to light it. His friend’s burning stare is enough to leave the skin on the back of his neck prickling in embarrassment and shame, as if he’s been caught in a dirty act. In a sense, he has. And Daichi stumbles over his words, an ill-attempt to sputter an excuse about why the fuck he has a small stash of marijuana in his drawer and why he’s about to use it so casually. 

But he doesn’t get the chance, because Sugawara rolls out of Sawamura’s unkempt bed and slides onto the floor in front of him, legs folding and hands firmly placed on pale thighs that's revealed as his shorts ride up. Daichi tears his gaze from the sight and finds a new point of contact by squinting at the other’s actions, opening his mouth to question it. 

“Since when do you smoke?” His entire face feels warm, flushed from the blunt inquiry. He blinks once, twice. No words emerge. Suga is staring at him with such intensity and he wants to melt away into the floor. But there’s something teasing about the way the other is leaning forward, the corners of his mouth twitching ever-so-slightly as if he was forcing down a smile. 

“Not long.” It comes out soft, shy almost, and he’s talking to the items in his hands instead of the boy in front of him. “Use it for when I need to calm down.” _Like right now_ , he thinks solemnly, shoulders hunching inwards while fingers curl tightly around the relaxing tool. There’s a beat of silence. Daichi doesn’t dare look up, afraid of what Suga’s response might be. He assumes a somewhat chill answer, maybe a scolding about how it’s not good for his lungs, maybe a bit of gloating and how he’ll hold this as blackmail over his head. 

All he gets is a shrug, the boy’s eyes crinkling a little as he smiles thinly. Mute, he watches as Suga rises and unceremoniously tosses himself back onto the bed, bouncing slightly as he situates himself on one side. A dull sound echoes through the room as Karasuno’s vice-captain slaps his hand against the space across from him. He contorts his torso to look back at Daichi, eyebrows raised in expectancy. 

“Well?” When he doesn’t answer, Suga sighs exasperatedly. “Come on, idiot, are you going to calm down or not?” Nimble fingers point towards the open window, an invitation in itself. 

Oh. _Oh_.

Suga is okay with this. With his method for calming down. He didn’t even explain the full extent of why he used this outlet instead of finding other ways to soothe his scrambled nerves. Maybe he didn’t need to. Perhaps Suga just _knew_ and didn’t need an explanation from his best friend. 

No matter. He’s up before he can stop himself, crossing the short distance and carefully settling into the space his best friend left, closest to the yawning window so the smoke and smell wouldn’t permanently stain his room. The pair stare at each other for a moment, Suga rolling his eyes and leaning back against the wall as he waits for Daichi to move. He makes a little gesture with his hands, as if to say _go on_. There’s a spotlight directly on him now and the thought leaves his palms sweaty. 

It’s like when he has to present a project during classes, standing up in front of his fellow classmates, trying to calm nerves before he launches into the fake public speaking abilities obtained over the years. It’s a perk when manhandling an entire team that half consists of overly energetic people. 

Daichi fumbles with the item that’ll let all his worries slip away for a few hours. It’s a self-conscious movement, but at some point or another, he needs to get going. If not, these plaguing thoughts are just going to drive him into a hole and there’s no way in hell that he’ll let Sugawara witness that. He inhales, slowly, before making sure the little bowl by the window seal is still there for the blunt to rest against in between sessions. 

Suga just sits, waiting, watching, as he finally pushes aside the leftover nerves that are only reserved for his best friend and lights the damn thing. It’s a gentle puff, inhale, and exhale. Repeat. It’s only been one, maybe two minutes, but it seems like an eternity. It’s not long before there’s a misty edge, a pleasant feeling of release and freedom as the inhalation sets in. Daichi hums softly in relief, settling more comfortably on the bed and letting his head fall back against the wall. 

“Can I try?” It breaks this cozy silence that’s settled between them, a hazy expression having washed over the other’s face somewhere along the way. He squints at the boy, silver hair nearly glowing with the sunlight streaming from the window behind him. Another breathtaking sight, and one he can’t quite tear his gaze from this time. He wets his lips, pushing a scratchy voice out through a dry throat. 

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” It’s a sincere question. While Suga is sometimes known for doing crazy stunts in leagues with some of the more rambunctious team members, Daichi is rather unsure if he’s ever actually been high before. If so, they’d have to take things slow. 

“Yeah, duh. Obviously.” It’s defensive, and met with a jab to his ribs, leaving his wheezing softly. A beat of silence. “No.” Daichi snorts, earning a hard smack to his shoulder as Suga squawks about how it’s not funny and for him to shut up. He rubs the sore spot as the other boy huffs and crosses his arms, looking rather peeved. “No, but I still want to try.” This response comes soft, almost tentative, but still somehow determined. 

Daichi nods once, before gently plucking up the blunt from its little bowl, beckoning Suga to come closer. There’s an idea, in the very back of his mind, something that shouldn’t even be considered but his inhibitions aren’t fully working at this point and all he can think about is just how pretty Sugawara looks in this light. It’s something you shouldn’t think about your best friend, but he’s far past that point and accepted that he’s vaguely head-over-heels for the boy, even if it’s one-sided. That’s just the price he pays, every day, really. Yet another reason to breathe away the worries. 

Suga moves, slowly crawling forward and Daichi’s entire body buzzes in anticipation as the other sits directly in front of him now, looking expectant. He counts to ten, willing his racing heart to decrease its rapid _thump thump thump_ within his own chest. 

“Um.” It sounds garbled against his own ears as he tries speaking once more, “You're probably going to choke the first time you do it like this.” He holds up the slightly smoking piece between his fingers for his friend to see. “So we’re going to try something less intense. Are you okay with that?” Obviously, some sort of consent is needed. Even with hazy thoughts and unclear ideas, he still knows crossing certain lines is a big no-no. Suga’s comfort was the utmost importance to him. And from the unsure expression the boy was giving him, Daichi knew he needed to elaborate more. 

“It’s called shotgunning.” The word makes him want to wince, face heating up as the mere suggestion. Of course, Suga might or might not know what it means. As if in answer, the other gives him a blank stare, and he rambles into an explanation, free hand instinctively rubbing the nape of his neck. A cold sweat has gathered there and he grimaces. “Basically, I inhale first and then exhale into your mouth so it’s more of a second-hand smoke experience.” This was the worst idea, the stupidest. Suga would never agree to it. 

And yet, he does. A brief pause settles over them, both boys looking at anything but each other, distinctively red across the apples of their cheeks. Daichi didn’t think he’d get this far, and now he hesitates to initiate anything. 

“Oh, come on, don’t chicken out on me now.” It’s meant to be teasing, but it’s barely audible coming from Sugawara. As if it holds something else behind the words. Their gazes meet for a second before he’s shaking his head and scooting closer to the other, readying himself for this invisible line they’re about to cross. 

“Just. Keep your mouth open and inhale when it comes through, okay?” The response is a simple nod, a slight smile before doing as told. He nods along, steeling himself before placing the piece to his own mouth. 

_Inhale. Hold. Lean. Breathe._

It’s quiet. Eerily quiet. He gently grips Suga’s chin to hold him in place, mouth barely inches away from his, smoke wafting off him and into the other’s awaiting lungs. Suga inhales obediently, pulling away before exhaling himself, remnants of shared smoky tendrils slipping out. His demeanor hasn’t changed, still a bit expectant, but he’s leaning back in for more. And Daichi can’t say no, so he repeats the process again. And again. And again. 

_Inhale. Hold. Lean. Breathe._

By the fifth or sixth time (he’s lost count by now), he’s firmly holding Suga’s face, cradling with the utmost care as he breathes directly into his friend’s mouth, watching in fascination as the boy readily inhales and exhales after a moment. Everything’s hazy, and he’s feeling light and airy, carefree. It’s just what he needed, and from the droopy smile that Suga is giving him, the effects have already set in for him. The window lets their smoke escape, but tendrils of the grey-white clouds still hover around them. 

“More.” It’s a whisper, and a hand is clasped tightly around his wrists, keeping both in place while he’s trying to reach for the little prize in the bowl. His heart is beating fast again, and he wonders if Suga can feel the quickened pulse through his fingertips. They’re so close, having gradually gravitated towards each other with each session. Their noses are almost brushing, and Suga’s breathing shallowly, the soft air tickling Daichi’s skin. “More.” The boy mumbles again, eyes hooded, long lashes fluttering, leaning closer and grip significantly tightening as cold noses bump together. 

He’s trying to make a sound, voice that he can’t get them another one unless his vice-captain lets go but it’s drowned by the absurd need to close the distance between them once and for all. Fuck it, friendship be damned. It’s a spur of the moment decision but before he can finalize it, a soft pair of lips are pressing against his own. 

Daichi freezes, eyes comically wide as he stares down cross-eyed at Sugawara for a moment, who’s already retreating, a flash of hurt shifting across those pretty features of his. An apology is already slipping from that quick-witted tongue, and he’s shaking his head so furiously that he feels like a bobblehead. 

“No.” It comes out strangled, and the gentle way he’d been cradling the other’s face fades, replaced by a sudden hunger as he surges forward and captures the boy’s lips with his own. A hitch of breath, a sigh, and they’re gripping onto each other as if their lives depend on it. It’s hot, it’s a little miscalculated, but it’s soft and somehow perfect, even in their high state. It’s too much, not enough, and now he understands what _more_ meant. His lungs start protesting for air but Daichi doesn’t want this to end so soon. 

They pull away, chests heaving, owlishly blinking at one another before Suga’s grabbing the collar of his shirt and falling backward, pulling the other down with him. They’re a tangle of limbs, hot breaths, and stolen kisses. The blunt lays in its little bowl, forgotten, burning out on its own and letting the summer wind carry the remaining smoke and smell far away. 

Nothing needs to be said. The kiss is enough, and the lazy makeout session that follows is more than enough to confirm something that the pair had been meaning to say for a long time. The rest of the day is spent together, firmly together, even with the sweltering weather leaving them sticky with sweat. 

Suga breaks the silence several hours later while tracing small patterns into Daichi’s palm. 

“By the way, I knew what shotgunning meant.” There’s a soft _whump_ , the sound of a hand lazily smacking against a shoulder, followed by giggles and a soft pleading ‘ _I’m sorry’_ that’s silenced by a stolen kiss. 

The summer heat is suddenly a bit more endurable. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey, thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! this was my first fic on here, and i am honestly nervous and excited to be able to share it on this platform.
> 
> i was listening to night bus by gabrielle apin the whole time writing this, even though it has very little to do with the actual plot of this fic. just thought it was a nice song to fit the mood, since reminds me of daisuga vs. being third years and... y'know, leaving. but that's another talk for another time.


End file.
